


Cold and Monumental

by keylimepie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Archangel Gabriel (Supernatural), Grief/Mourning, M/M, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 00:12:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7991473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keylimepie/pseuds/keylimepie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam seeks sanctuary in a dark time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold and Monumental

**Author's Note:**

> Set just after S7ep6. 
> 
> This lil ficlet has been sitting in my computer for months and I'm not sure if this is it, or....? Comment and let me know if I should continue.

Sam Winchester felt the loneliness settle in on him like a familiar old sweater. He had left Dean behind minutes earlier, standing on that dock. He had walked away while his brother was still sputtering out that killing Sam’s friend, and then lying about it, had been the right thing to do. Sam walked through the town with his bags on his shoulders, looking for a coffee shop or maybe a library. But as he walked by the large stone church, he made a spontaneous decision to turn his feet toward the door. Churches had always felt like sanctuary and comfort in the past. Perhaps it would ease the loneliness. 

Inside, the church building was rather more elaborate. There was all sorts of carved woodwork, intricate arches and buttresses spanned the ceiling. Stained glass windows showed Biblical scenes. Incense hung heavily in the air. In an alcove to the side, there was a statue of the church’s patron saint. The statue wore medieval-style robes, brightly painted in shades of blue and cream, and was heavily accented in gold. There were lilies growing around his feet, and a long gold trumpet held gently in his hands. The hair was a bit longer and curlier, and the face did not bear its trademark smirk, but Sam recognized that face. Sam walked up to the statue, his eyes fixed on its unseeing marble eyes. 

“Hey,” he said. “You pompous smartass, you should still be alive. I’m sorry.” At once, the sadness and regret washed over him and his knees buckled. Sam found himself kneeling on the floor at the statue’s feet. “Oh, Gabriel, I’m so sorry,” he sobbed. Suddenly it was all flowing out and Sam knelt at Gabriel’s feet and sobbed out all the loss and heartbreak. “I need you, man. Never even got to tell you… never even knew until too late. And, oh, God, if I’d just said yes earlier. You died trying to save me, and it didn’t even work.” His words were punctuated by sobs, and he stayed hunched over there for some time, deep in thought about the lusty prankster archangel, so unlike this cold marble statue in front of him. He would give anything for a hug from the flesh and blood Gabriel, or even just a smirk and a dirty comment that would fuel Sam’s fantasies for a while. Probably Gabriel was just flirting out of habit, he had told himself at the time, but Sam would dream about kissing that smirk off his face nonetheless. 

At last Sam stood up and wiped his face on his sleeve. He should leave the church and go find food and somewhere to sleep tonight. He picked up his bags and turned to walk away but paused, looking back at the statue one more time. “I miss you, Gabriel. You were so, so amazing and I never even told you. I wish you weren’t gone. I should have tried when I had the chance.” Sam bent his head and kissed the hand of the statue reverently, then turned abruptly and walked out of the church, feeling no less alone than he had when he’d gone inside. 


End file.
